A World About to Dawn
by EllieP0ynter
Summary: After an incident at the docks, the two very different worlds of Enjolras and Éponine collide. É/E
1. Chapter 1: Lovely Ladies

\- Èponine's POV -

I made my way through the streets of Paris, pulling my thin shall around my shoulders in an attempt to keep myself from the chill of the night air. I knew where I was heading, though I refused to think about what I was about to do. I had done it before of course; exchanged my pride for a couple of francs. That was what happened to all girls once poverty pulled them to their lowest. It had happened to me mere months ago and I had spent most of my nights down at the docks since then.

It wasn't so bad whilst it was happening. I just closed my eyes and dreamed of Marius, his smile, his laugh, his eyes. But as soon as it was over, I was left with an indescribable sickening feeling of guilt in the pit of my stomach, one that forced tears to spill from my eyes and my legs to shake.

I would never tell pére or mére, not from shame but simply because I knew how angry they would be if they found out that I had not shared the money with them. Instead, I used it to buy food for my siblings, there was always just enough for a crust of bread each, leaving myself and my parents hungry. But seeing the joy on little Gavroche's face when I handed him the bread was worth an empty belly.

I glanced from side to side as I darted down the staircase that led to the sandy docks, noticing the women in skimpy dresses, their breasts on full show and their faces caked in make-up, as they flirted customers into their beds. I was not ashamed to be a part of what the bourgeois called the 'lovely ladies of the docks' if it meant that my siblings would not go hungry, so I took my place alongside them, pulling down my bodice and wiping the dirt from my face in an attempt to make myself seem more appealing.

"Well, what do we have here." A male voice said, drawing closer to me with each word he spat. Soon he was right in front of me, the stench of alcohol on his breath significant. "I would like to have a little taste of you."

Nodding slowly, I took his hand and led him further down the footsteps, ducking down into a dark alley at the bottom. Before I had a chance to say anything to the man he pushed me up against the damp wall, his lips sloppily tracing their way down my neck, his hand pulling up my skirts as he unbuttoned his briefs.

It was quick, thankfully for me. My eyes watered as he finally pulled away, only the thought of my partner being the ever loving Marius kept me going. Blinking away the tears, I watched as the man fixed his trousers and turned to leave. Frowning, I stretched out my hand and gently grabbed his arm.

"Monsieur, you have not yet paid me." I stuttered quietly, not daring to make eye contact.

The man's patronising laugh echoed around the alley. "I don't believe that was worthy of any of my money."

I stared at him in disbelief, a sudden anger coursing through my body. "Monsieur. When you chose me, you and I entered into a deal. I would give you what you wanted in exchange for a small amount of money. You owe me."

The man pulled his arm away from my grip, his other hand moving to pin me to the wall by my throat, blocking my air ways.

"You dare to speak to me in that way? Me, a gentleman of the upper class, and you, a dirty little whore. What gives you the right?" He spat, putting emphasis on the word 'whore'.

"I am a person, just like you. And I deserve what I am owed." I gasped, feeling my face reddening with lack of air.

And that is when the first punch came. He struck me across my left eye, before slapping the cheek below it. Then he removed his grip on my neck and I slid to the ground, gasping for air. I felt no pain in my face, neither did I feel any pain from the kicks to my stomach that followed, nor the stamp to my hand that left it crippled. It was only after the man spat at me before skulking away into the shadows that the pain finally rose, becoming unbearable, until all I wanted to do was sleep.

\- Enjolras' POV -

It was dark when I finally left the Café Musain. Marius and the rest of the Les Amis had retired home long before me, but I had stayed to continue preparations for the revolution in peace, without Grantaire's constant drunken rambling in my ear. When I had finally left I felt an urge that could only be overcome in one way.

I made my way down the stairs to the docks. I was aware that my friends had humorously nicknamed me the marble man due to my disinterest in women, despite their attempts to hide it from me, but I had the same urges that they did; I was a man after all and it was only natural for a man to need some kind of release. What made me different from them was that I was not interested in marriage or finding love. My mother had, of course, thrown various eligible girls my way over the years but I had declined their advances as politely as possible.

Glancing at the women around me, I headed towards the sandy floor, making my way in the direction of the more expensive, yet more respectable ladies. As I darted down the alley I knew they resided at the end of, my foot tripped on something. Spinning around, I noticed a small bundle of rags on the ground. To begin with I did not think any thing of this; it was not uncommon in Paris to see rags and rubbish littering the streets. However, when the rags began to move slightly I started forward, bending down, noting a hand outstretched on the pavement, the fingers broken and bloodied.

"Madame? Are you hurt?" I asked, pulling a strand of knotted, dark hair from the face of the woman. My eyes scanned her face, taking in every feature. "Madame Thénardier?"

The girl's face was plastered with ever blackening bruises and her frail body seemed broken and battered. She was not conscious but after checking her pulse, making note to thank Joly for showing me hot to, I was pleased to find that she was still alive. Unsure of what to do, I scooped her fragile body into my arms, glancing from side to side before taking her back down the alley, up the stone steps and through the streets of Paris.


	2. Chapter 2: Bonne Nuit

\- Éponine's POV -

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was the stabbing pain in my rubs, and then the throbbing in my face. I tried to open my eyes, but for some reason my left eye would not fully open. Raising my right hand to see what was wrong with my eye, I noticed a crisp white bandage, stained slightly with blood, wrapped around my fingers and palm. I glanced around the room, my vision blurred slightly as my only good eye adjusted to finally being open. It was a small room, with a desk on the right hand side, a small wardrobe in front of me and a faded rug laid on the floor. I was lying in a double bed, with a woollen blanket wrapped over the bottom half of my body. For a moment I thought I had been found by Marius as the room resembled his own home, but when I heard muffled voices outside the door, voices I did not recognise, I quickly discarded that idea. I began to panic in the unfamiliar place, unsure of what had happened.

I strained my ears to hear what was being said. The voices belonged to two men, apparently talking about me.

"Will she be okay?" One voice asked.

"She's sustained quite a lot of injuries, but she will be okay with time I believe. She will need to rest though." A second voice said.

"I understand." The first answered again.

The door suddenly opened and I could finally see who the voiced belonged to. One man walked through the door, beaming slightly when he saw that I was awake. he looked vaguely familiar, but perhaps that was simply because his sandy blonde hair and freckled face reminded me of Marius. It was only when the second man walked into the room that I began to relax. His golden blonde locks were easy to place, and I recognised the man almost instantly. He was the leader of the Les Amis de l'ABC and I had frequently shadowed Marius during their meetings.

"Monsieur Enjolras?" I stuttered.

"Madame Thénardier. It's good to see you awake at last." The first man said, he was holding a medical bag. "My name is Joly; I've been tending to your injuries. My dear friend Enjolras found you down by the docks. He feared you had been attacked. Madame, can you remember what happened?"

I racked my brains, trying my best to remember. I knew that I had been attacked, but I could not remember who by.

"I had a customer who refused to pay. When I asked him for the money I was owed, he beat me." I said slowly, glancing down at the bed.

"A customer?" Enjolras finally said, staring at me blankly. "I did not know that you..." He trailed off, not wishing to finish the sentence.

"You never asked Monsieur." I pointed out, daring a glance up at the blonde revolutionist.

"You will need to rest here Madame. You have three cracked ribs, a swollen face and eye and a crippled hand." Joly intercepted, quickly changing the subject before it became any more awkward.

"Oh no! I couldn't stay here, Monsieur. I wouldn't want to be any trouble." I said, allowing a worried glance at Joly.

"It wouldn't be me you were troubling, Madame. This is Enjolras' house." Joly laughed, giving me a wink as I quickly turned my glance to Enjolras. He was leaning against the desk on the far wall, his arms crossed over his chest and a small crease lining his forehead where his brows were bent into a frown.

"Monsieur?" I said slowly.

He did not answer for a moment, leaving the room in a complete silence and me expecting him to state that I could not stay; after all, who would want a dirty gamine like myself staying in their home?

"You can't go anywhere at the minute, Madame, you're too hurt. You may stay here for as long as necessary. Ce serait avec plaisir*."

"Merci Monsieur." I replied quickly, nodding my head slightly before lowering my head to the pillow again, a sudden exhaustion passing through my body at the thought of rest. My eyes grew heavy and I involuntarily closed them, aware that the two men in the room were still watching me.

\- Enjolras' POV -

As Joly and I watched Éponine drift into a light sleep, her breathing growing steadily heavier, we slowly left the room. I shook my head as I closed the door.

"You're a good man, Enjolras." My friend spoke up, and I turned to see him smiling at me. "Not many people would do that for someone of her status."

"She is a person, same as me and you. She deserves to be cared for and treated the same way as anyone else." I replied simply. "Besides, I'm sure there are others who would have done the same."

"Taken her to a hospital perhaps, but allowed her into their home, tended to her wounds until a physician arrived, stayed with her all night and all day. I don't know a soul who would do that besides you." Joly said slowly, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Now go and get some rest. You must be exhausted yourself. I'll be back tomorrow to check on her."

I nodded gently and with that Joly turned and made his way out of my home. I turned and headed down the narrow corridor until I reached my study, pushing open the cracked wooden door, wincing slightly as it creaked, praying that it would not wake the sleeping woman two rooms down. I made straight for the armchair that was angled towards the fireplace. Taking off my coat, I wrapped it around my shoulders, moving so that I was sitting in the most comfortable position the armchair would allow, and drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

\- Éponine's POV -

 _Marius and I wandered around the empty streets of Paris. It was late, and the moon shone brightly in the night sky, casting an eerie glow on the city, one that reflected from the puddles on the ground and bounced off the lopsided walls and buildings on the street. We laughed and sang, and I actually felt happy for once._

 _We came to a stop near the end of the street, huddling under the entrance to a café as little droplets of rain began to fall from the sky. I glanced up at the face of the man before me. His eyes gleamed beautifully in the dim light, and a large smile was spread across his freckled face, stretched from ear to ear. He seemed happy as well._

 _I wanted to pull him close, to hold him near me, but I stopped myself. Instead, I gathered together all of the courage that I could muster, ready to finally tell him._

 _"Marius." I began._

 _"Éponine." Marius laughed, his eyes searching my face. But his smile suddenly faded when he saw the serious look I was sporting. "What is it?"_

 _"Can I tell you something?" I asked slowly._

 _"Of course you can."_

 _I cleared my throat, sighing at my own lack of courage. "Marius...I-I love you."_

 _"What...?" Marius asked, frowning and moving away from me slightly. "What do you mean 'you love me'?"_

 _"I mean what I said. I mean that I love you more than anything, and it hurts whenever you are not by my side, Marius..." I said quickly, reaching out my hand to his, a pain stabbing through my heart as he pulled his own hand away, taking three steps away from me._

 _"I can't do this." He said slowly, before turning and hurrying away down the empty Parisian street. I felt empty and cold. Tears began to fall freely from my eyes; what had I done? Spinning around, ready to run away from my own stupidity, I was stopped in my tracks by a young blonde girl who was standing in front of me. Cosette was beautiful, her pale skin glowing enigmatically in the darkness. My eyes traced down to her hand, where she held what appeared to be a small, sharp knife. Peering closer I saw the the knife was covered in blood. Gasping, I glanced back towards Cosette's face, her mouth now curled into a smirk. A sharp pain alerted me to the wound in my stomach and looking down I saw that I was covered in blood._

 _"What have you done?" I asked, glancing back up at Cosette, who's smirk grew as she watched me fall in pain._

I awoke with a start, my forehead damp with sweat. It had simply been a nightmare, one that had haunted my dreams since Marius had visited Cosette's home. Of course I had been the one to tell him of her whereabouts, something I had regretted since.

I sighed, sitting up in bed, hissing at the pain that ensued from my ribs. I knew that there was no way I was going to get back to sleep that night, so I swung my legs over the side of the bed, deciding to investigate the house whilst Monsieur Enjolras was asleep, in case a situation arose where I would need to escape. I had become a habit of mine to always scout out the exits of any place I visited, as int he business that my family had found themselves in in recent years you never knew when you might need to escape the police.

Tiptoeing towards the door, leaning on the wall for support, I made my way into the corridor. Looking from right to left, I chose to meander down the corridor to the right, finally stopping at the door at the very end. Cautiously, I nudged the door open slightly, poking my head into the room when it was open enough. My body finally followed my head, and I found myself standing in a study-like room. There was a large desk set opposite a fireplace and a bookcase lined the far wall, filled with novels and factual books. I wished my education was not as basic as it was so I could read some of the book to keep me entertained; whilst I could read a little, it was not enough to fully understand a complete novel. Curled up in an armchair by the fire was Monsieur Enjolras, his eyes closed into a frown.

I dared a step closer to the man, taking in his face which seemed much younger when he was sleeping, and his blonde hair which fell across his face messily. As I moved closer, one of the floorboards creaked, alerting Enjolras to the intruder, causing him to wake with a start, his eyes foggy and squinted.

"Madame Thénardier?" He croaked slowly.

"Please Monsieur, I am no Madame. Call me Éponine." I said quickly with a laugh; I had never been called Madame before.

"Madame." Enjolras said sternly. "What are you doing out of bed?"

"I couldn't sleep, I had a nightmare. Monsieur, why are you sleeping in an armchair? Where is your bed?" I asked slowly, scanning the room for another cot.

"My bed?" He asked and I nodded again. "You're sleeping in my bed Madame."

"What?" I asked suddenly. That couldn't be right; why would he let me sleep in his only bed? It didn't make any sense.

"You needed rest and i only have one bed, so I gave it to you." He stated matter-of-factually.

"But Monsieur, I can't steal your bed from you and make you sleep in an armchair, please come and sleep in your bed, I will find somewhere else to stay." I said, grabbing his hand and pulling him back down the corridor, my rough grip keeping him from pulling away. When we reached the door to the room I finally let go of his hand. He frowned at me and I turned and began ushering him towards his bed.

"Madame, please. You need your rest and really, the armchair is quite comfortable." He lied, knowing that the pain in his back would betray his words in the morning.

"Then I shall rest in the armchair." I stated.

"Madame please." Enjolras said again. "I will not allow you to sleep in an armchair whilst you are injured. You shall sleep in my bed and that is final."

"Then you shall sleep in the bed with me. There is enough room in that bed for two." I stated, closing my eyes quickly, realising how my statement sounded.

"I couldn't." Enjolras said, a slight look of shock falling over his face.

"Fine." I said, limping over to the bed, pulling off one of the pillows, placing it on the floor, and moving to lie down. "If you shall not sleep in the bed, then I shall sleep here on the floor and we shall both be uncomfortable. Est-ce que vous render heureux*?"

I watched as Enjolras sighed before moving towards the right side of the bed, sliding under the woollen blanket and turning his back on me, facing the wall. Grinning slightly, I stumbled towards the bed, putting the pillow back in place and sliding under the blanket next to Enjolras.

"Bonne nuit Monsieur, et je vous remercie*." I said quietly.

"Bonne nuit Madame." Came the reply.

*Ce serait avec plaisir - It would be my pleasure

*Est-ce que vous render heureux - Will that make you happy?

*Bonne buit monsieur, et je vous remercie - Goodnight sir, and thank you

 **Hey guys! If there are any French speakers out there and I've done something wrong please don't hesitate to correct me. My French is a little rusty so it's probably all wrong!**


	3. Chapter 3: La Princesse de Cléves

\- Éponine's POV -

I limped through to the study; I knew Enjolras was in there, probably looking over his plans for Les Amis, but I was curious and, to be completely honest, slightly lonely.

It had been three days since I had woken up and Enjolras had mostly left me to my own devices. In face, I normally only saw him in the morning, before and after bed and occasionally in the middle of the night when I would wake from a nightmare to find him lying sleepless beside me. He normally ate his meals in his study and the only times he left the house were if he was going to a meeting at the Café Musain, or a lecture at the university.

Knocking gently on the door, I allowed myself into the room when I heard a low grunt come from inside, which I interpreted as a greeting.

Walking inside, I saw Enjolras sitting at the desk hunched over numerous books and scrawling something down on a piece of paper. He did not look up when he heard me come inside but I did not let that stop me from moving around the room, running my fingers across the soft fabric of the arm chairs, the mantelpiece on the fireplace, the books on the bookshelf.

"You can borrow one if you would like." Enjolras said as I stopped to look at the glorious hard back books. Spinning around I saw that whilst he was speaking, he had not looked up from his paper.

"Oh, Monsieur, I couldn't. They're all so beautiful and I would just dirty them." I said, moving away from the bookshelf as if it had hurt me. He stopped writing at this point, putting down his pen, leaning back in his chair and finally looking up at me.

"Don't say that." He said. It was odd; I had lived with this man for three days and he had barely acknowledged my existence, and any conversations we may have had had been short, almost as if his mind was elsewhere, and that he did not really care for my opinion, conversation or well-being, besides my medical state, which he had occasionally acquired after before bed.

"You aren't dirty, Madame Thénadier. Please don't ever say that again." He repeated. Swiftly, he rose from his chair, moving to stand beside me by the bookshelf. "Now, would you like to borrow one?"

I nodded slowly, allowing him to reach up to a shelf high above my short height and place a book into my hands. I glanced down at the book, which had a royal red hardback cover, with the title in shining golden calligraphy on the front.

"La Princesse de Cléves. A classic novel by Madame de La Fayette. It centres around a Mademoiselle de Chartres, a member of Henry II's court. I believe it will satisfy you." Enjolras said, smiling ever so slightly; I believe that was the first time I had seen him smile. Nodding, I started towards the fireplace and made myself comfortable in the armchair there. Opening the book, my eyes darted over the page, the words on the parchment muddled and confusing. I didn't dare tell Enjolras that my knowledge of reading was too basic to understand something as complicated as the novel I held in my hands.

An hour passed and I still had not read a single word on the page. I simply stared at the black ink and willed the words to form properly. A grunt coming from Enjolras' direction broke the silence. Glancing over I saw the blonde man looking at me, arms folded over his chest and his brows bent into a frown.

"Are you not enjoying the novel, Madame?" He asked.

"Oh no Monsieur, it is very good indeed." I lied, shaking my head in answer to his question.

"Are you sure? I just thought that you must not be enjoying it, for it has been an hour since you began reading and you haven't yet turned a single page." He stated matter-of-factually.

I could already feel the heat rising in my cheeks, and aware that Enjolras was still looking at me, I sighed, closing the book. "In all honesty, Monsieur. I am not a very good reader."

I quickly looked away from the man at the desk and down to my feet, willing the conversation to be over. A rough chuckle caused my head to snap back to look in his direction, surprised at the display of joy coming from the marble man.

"Why didn't you just say?" He chuckled. "Would you like me to help you?"

I nodded slowly and as I did so he stood from his chair behind the desk and motioned for me to sit down. Moving from the armchair I did as he expected and sat down in the desk chair, placing the book on the table in front of me. Enjolras reached forward and opened the book to the first page. He cleared his throat and began to read out loud.

"Grandeur and gallantry never appeared in France so brightly than in the past years of the reign of Henry II. The prince was gallant, handsome and in love; although his passion for Diane de Poitiers, Duchess of Valentinois, had begun there more than twenty years, it was not less violent, and he did not give less distinguishing proofs."

I focused, not on the words he was saying, but on his breath on her shoulder as he spoke, on his voice, which so eloquently told the story of Prince Henry II of France. I had noticed his gift for story telling once before. It had been a late meeting at the Café Musain, and I was sat in the corner, glancing around for Marius. But Marius never arrived, and I was forced to sit in the Café Musain until the meeting was over, not wishing to disturb it. And I listened to his speech, words of equality and revolution, so beautifully scripted that i thought perhaps he was quoting a book.

"If she had given him, replied Monsieur de Cléves, we should not be surprised; but what is surprising is that it also gave Estouteville at the same time; and I will teach you the whole story." Enjolras finished the 'Premiere Partie'. He straightened his back, after almost two hours of bending over the desk to see the book, allowing the pain in his lower spine to be stretched. He glanced over at the clock on the mantelpiece, noticing the lateness of the hour.

"Pardonne-moi Madame, it appears I have kept you up quite late." He said, suddenly reverting back to the solemn marble man that had disappeared for the past couple of hours.

I sighed, standing and moving towards the door, turning back momentarily.

"Pouvons-nous lire le chapitre suivant bientot, Monsieur*?"

"Bien sur, Madame*." He replied, bowing his head slightly.

"Bonne nuit, Monsier."

"Bonne nuit, Madame Thénadier."

 **Hey guys! The original text of La Princesse de Cléves is in French and my translations might be a bit shoddy, so if they don't make sense then I'm very sorry!**

*Pouvons-nous lire le chapitre suivant bientot, monsieur? - May we read the next chapter soon, sir?

*Bien sur, madame - Of course, madam


End file.
